k. The snow had stopped, leaving the c

cup of tea in her hands. The w

worried eyes. "Bev, are you sure about this? If

ant his money. I want out. And I w

ang. It was

"His legal team is filing motions t

dded. "Exec

thinks it's a game. He thinks I'm blu

the New York gos

s, sitting across from Zane Archer at Le Bernardin. They were leaning in close, smiling. Be

e was ruthless, brilliant, and he hated Ellwood

Ellwood's de

red at the tablet. His face turned

urled it across the room. I

r?" he roared. "In public?

er, the phone rang. It was

not signed within twenty-four hours, they will release a package of photographs to the Times. Photographs of y

a cold, calculating fear. She had evide

narled into the phone

ite at The Core, the most exclusive, most discreet cl

crets were kept. A place where a man taking

ful. He didn't call his security team. He didn't call the police.

e marched to the front desk, where the manager tried to stop

ard across the marble counter. "Make a path for me to Suite 4, or tomorrow morning

and nodded to the security guards, who immedia

he elevator to

shoes clicking on the marble in uneven rhythm

They were drinking scotch. There were no candles, no rom

ked, swirling his drink. "Stevenson

That's enough. He thinks he owns me. He can't stand t

to help. Taking down Stevenson'

echoed thro

thrown open. It slammed against

e. His chest was heaving. His eyes were wild, burning wi

d at Beverley. His hands cu